You bring the grease, I'll bring the elbows
by hearmelaugh
Summary: Butler AU. Lavi and Kanda try out a position for part-time butlers at the Walker manor for a day, and everything turns out better than expected. Loosely part of the Odd Jobs universe.


Employment is hard to get by for part-timers in the current economic climate, but if anything that only made Lavi try harder and more zealously to get enough pay to pacify Kanda enough so that he won't get kicked out of the flat he shares with the world's least hospitable and least polite Japanese man.

Which is why Kanda Yuu shouldn't be surprised when he's roped in to join Lavi in his latest venture; the tea shop Kanda had held a position of almost supreme power as tea taster and stock buyer in was taken over by a Starbucks, and even if he could have been bothered to fill in an application form to sell his soul to Our Lady Green Mermaid, the prospect of working at the front of house and having all his clothes stink of coffee proved to be too much of a negative. So they were both in trouble with rent and food and meeting the costs of living, which made a naturally grumpy Kanda even grumpier.

His mood doesn't go through a sharp upswing when Lavi bursts through the door to their little home, trembling with excitement, holding a flyer aloft.

"Part-time butlers for hire? What is this shit?"

Lavi's grin will not be so easily faltered. "Th'face of our new venture into th'working world, boss! Look, ain't it grand? Pay's great, hours' are flexible, 'nd we'll get a waistcoat 'nd cool slacks 'nd everything for uniform!"

Lavi, Lavi, Lavi. Having one eye is as good as being blind with you, huh? Kanda shakes his head, intending to reach for the gaudy flyer and tear it into a hundred thousand pieces, before burning it for heating (it's already December and he has six layers on just to sit in their dingy kitchen). Who would need part-time butlers, really?

Part-time nobles? What idiocy.

* * *

"This is fucking stupid," Kanda grumbles into the scarf wound around his neck, looking up at quite the opulent mansion, small-ish, run-down but stinking of money so old it must've just rotted away.

Lavi's already insistently pressing the doorbell, guaranteeing a headache for whoever has to hear the damn thing indoors. "We-ell, a little, yeah? I suppose if you're a Duke 'nd y'have a Marchioness f'a mistress 'nd an illegitimate kid shows up, the kid's going t'be part-time royal. Or something. No family retainer, so you'd need t'hire, but no title or lands t'get money from, so get part-timers. Makes sense, babe, if you give it some thought."

If you gave it some thought Lavi-style, maybe, but in the glorious sanctity of Kanda's mind, this is a stupid situation and they're probably going to get ambushed as soon as the gates open and they enter through those foreboding wooden doors, they'll get knocked out and have their kidneys stolen and then Kanda will have to cross out "Sell Lavi's organs" off his emergency asset list. He just slaps Lavi's hand away from holding down the intercom button for the sake of physically hitting Lavi without scaring away their possible employers, and his timing was probably perfect as a tinny voice calls through the intercom to tell them to get in and then head straight to the back, where the servants' entrance is.

The wrought iron gates groan and grate, jerking open mechanically via rotors that haven't been oiled in far too long, to open wide enough to admit the two men. The process reverses itself, and now they're trapped. Sortof. Kanda could scale over the imposing-looking gates from a stationary start, he's sure of it, and Lavi's a goddamn touchy octopus from hell in bed, so there's no reason he can't use his limbs to tentacle over to freedom anyways.

Still, though. It's ominous as shit. It doesn't help that Lavi whistles, looking at it with some interest dancing merrily in his solitary green eye. Lavi lets out another low whistle as both of them trek through knee-high weeds and brambles to circle the mansion. "Servants' entrance? 's old-fashioned, isn't it? Objectifyin' the value of human effort, or something. And why'd they need part-timers like us if they've already got a man answering intercom calls?"

"If it's so damn mysterious, what are we still doing here?" Kanda isn't scared, he isn't even really creeped. He just knows that he's in for a world of irritation (though that's got more to do with being firmly and confusingly attached to Lavi in a mutually agreed-upon but not likely mutually beneficial relationship, than because of the work).

"If butlering doesn't work out, Yuu-chan, maybe we could be private investigators! 've got a keen eye f'things, after all."

Kanda spots an opening for victory at the same time Lavi spots the nondescript door 'round back. "Damn straight, _eye_."

Lavi clutches at the eye patch that hides the terrible scar of where his right eye used to be from this world, groaning melodramatically. "Ah, boss, but y'sure are cruel to the handicapped, yeah!" Not a second later, he's all smiles again. "Promise I'll have m'revenge in bed tonight, you can look forward to it."

Kanda karate chops Lavi's head at the same time as an austere blond man with a neat braid and an angry expression swings open the door to the servants' entrance.

Way to make a good first impression, baby, Lavi had whispered out the corner of his lips at Kanda, after apologizing to the estate manager who looks like he couldn't be less amused if he got injected with anti-humour.

* * *

The clothes fit them well enough. The trousers are a little too small to properly handle the manly muscle of Kanda's legs, and Lavi's broad frame stretches the blazer taut across his shoulders, but they look fine.

Better than fine, even. Purple velvet brocade looks good on Lavi.

"You look like an eccentric billionaire, Yuu-chan." Purple velvet brocade isn't the domain of everyone. Kanda slams the tarnished silver tray in his hands against the back of Lavi's head, and when the tray remains unscathed and undented after the attack, he considers the value of a solid silver bit of crockery, and how if they could just soften their morals a little bit the pay might go waaaaaaay up.

Then he goes back to scrubbing it clean with silver polish and a hearty dose of vengeance, as Lavi idly flaps his lips and leaves burn marks on the delicate lace handkerchiefs he's supposed to iron with aplomb.

Velvet's hot to work in, but it's December all damn ready and the household can't afford the expense of heating the rooms the servants are in, so this works out for the best.

Or worst. There's suddenly a burning smell in the air, and Kanda looks up again with a bit of alarm. "Shit, if you've burned another handkerchief, Lavi, I swear to God-"

Lavi just smiles panickily, waving about a newspaper that's caught fire (with that big fire down by the woods that happened last week on the front page, this cosmic irony), totally ignoring the common knowledge that fanning flames just make 'em flame harder.

Ever the saner one, Kanda grabs the damned thing and flings it into the fireplace, letting it burn to dust as two full-grown men dressed like genteel pimps watch on. Kanda sighs. "What the fuck." He feels like he'll be saying that a lot today (and every Wednesday and Friday for the next month or so).

"Y'see, yeah. I watched Th'Nanny yesterday, babe, while you were meditatin' in the bath or what, and apparently ironing newspapers t'make 'em smooth and straight, yeah, that's legit butlering."

Aha. Kanda ought to check a dictionary. Apparently to butle means the same as to be an idiot. He hands Lavi the basket full of tarnished silver candelabras and crockery, tosses the rag he'd been using and the tube of polish you have to vigorously jerk off to coax out even the slightest amount of icky gloop, and takes over the ironing.

Howard Link, the estate manager that wishes dearly he could manage other estates, comes in to check on their progress and actually makes a noise of utter shock to see that

1) The house hasn't been burned down.

2) The ironing has been done beautifully.

3) The silverware is so clean and clear he can even see the two moles on his forehead reflected in it.

It won't do to show the help that they're doing okay, though, so he just clears his throat, tries to look patronizing, and informs them that the Young Master will be coming home from school soon, and that it's time to make lunch.

* * *

"Butler my ass. They're running a scam to hire two people to do the job of sixteen." Kanda's elbow deep (it feels like) in chicken carcasses, hacking out bones and butterflying the poor fowl with a level of aggression rarely seen outside a war. Lavi's not daunted, though, because Kanda lives his whole entire life with a level of aggression rarely seen (in general).

"Pretty much, yeah." Lavi's a lot jollier, tasked with peeling a mound of potatoes bought on the cheap, with little sprouts coming out their eyes. He's knowledgeable about cheap vegetables that look like they've seen better days; it's what Kanda and he subsist on, after all. "Then again, 's a job with money, babe, 'nd if it gets too bad I'm 78% sure we can just squat in one of th'rooms 'nd no one would notice."

And for all their complaints, with the stove and oven running in the stone kitchen, it's fairly warm and remarkably domestic. Kanda's done working his way through half a dozen chickens, some put aside to be minced, others in a rough dice marinating in Kanda's Super Secret Tongue Burner Sauce, the rest trussed up ready for service some other time. He gathers his spoils, and goes to wash everything down.

When Lavi looks up from the last of his potatoes, Kanda's standing there, looking impatient (but not being impatient).

Suddenly, there're six wishbones thrust in front of his face.

"If you win, you damn well better be wishing for full-time employment."

Lavi wins 5, snapping the wishbone expertly to get the bigger chunk left over in his hand, and he does wish for full-time employment, as well as 4 other pointless, tawdry things (including a short sweet kiss, which he gets for himself, thanks).

Kanda wins one, and stows away his bit of bone in his pocket. He's a little superstitious, he can't help it. Lavi asks what it is he'd asked for, but Kanda had staunchly refused to answer.

(A year of peace and quiet and sharing the same bed. It's what he wishes for whenever he's in a situation where he has to make one.)

The kitchen smells great with Kanda grilling the chicken with his Special Sauce, and both men feel vindicated when Howard comes running in with streaming eyes and a terrible cough, asking them why they had suddenly decided to take part in chemical warfare.

* * *

The Young Master is a pale boy with the worst case of overbleached hair, a strange discolouration on his left eye, and his left arm in a cast. Kanda expected a matching personality, someone quiet, innocent, with a tortured soul on the inside. Neither he nor Lavi look like the retiring type, and wear their tortured souls quite happily on their lapels.

His forecast needs a major re-do when the kid (Walk-er ermmm something like that) launches into an excited conversation with Lavi as soon as Lavi enters the dining room, pushing a trolley laden with food. The amount Howard had told them to make didn't seem to match up with a portion suitable for this one scrawny kid, but when half a chicken is gone while the two idiots are still talking about weather, Kanda surmises Howard might actually know his shit.

His forecast is thrown out the freakin' door to land unceremoniously on its ass when the Walker boy invites them cordially to a game of cards. Warning bells should've wrung when Lavi's happy agreement causes the pale kid to grin the way Kanda feels sharks would grin if they were people. The klaxons ought to've blared when the boy casually strolls over to the grand double doors and sticks a poker through the door handles, barring entry and exit.

By the time it hits him that this is really really a dangerous person he should have no contact with, he's naked but for the silver tray he'd so fervently polished hiding his junk from prying eyes, Lavi's naked for all the world to see, sitting on top of his trousers so that his bare ass wouldn't touch the table, Walker's laughing with all the stars of the milky way in his eyes, and

They've exchanged contact details so this could happen outside of work hours.

When fun times are over and Allen excuses himself to go do work in his room, Lavi and Kanda clean up quickly, wheeling everything back to the kitchen where Howard Link stands, arms folded, foot-tapping.

"What took you so long?" he demands, trying to be intimidating but failing at the first hurdle (he's gotta aim it at people who can get intimidated, after all).

Kanda just glowers, not planning to reply, and Lavi meekly sings out sweet silvery words to soften the hardest of hearts.

They almost get away on the strength of Lavi's bullshit powers, but for Howard catching sight of the imprint of Kanda's meat and two veg that the young master _should never be in a position to eat_ on the tray that they'd forgotten to wipe down.

* * *

They're done with dinner service, and both of them are now smelling quite strongly of mothballs. Kanda discovered somewhat belatedly that mothballs rolled around in the pockets of the blazer, and because it had been so cold not much of the smell had gotten out. With their bodies slowly warming the fabric and mothballs up and frequent running around into decently-warm rooms, though, now they smell so chemical it's killing him.

Come 8pm sharp he's taken off all his clothes, tossing 'em in the laundry basket (since their next shift isn't for a couple of days), hurriedly and happily swapping back into his lovely clothes, all black and plain and woolly and scratchy and his. They'd been offered use of the grand bathroom, all beautiful mosaic tiles and copper fixtures, and Lavi had gladly taken Howard up on the offer (only to discover that all that glitters could damn well be gold, yeah, but that sure doesn't guarantee hot water).

There'd been much screaming, and Kanda wisely avoided that option. Lavi had powered through, giving himself a good scrubbing, because it did mean they're saving on the water bill at home. And now they're back at the servants' entrance, a hand tucked in the other's pocket, staring down a Howard who looks a little uncomfortable.

"Well. Your services were adequate for the day. However, regarding the pay…"

Lavi laughs. "Let me guess, yeah. You've only got enough f'one person? We'd guessed as much, you sure looked surprised when we showed up as two! Don't worry 'bout it, Howard m'cutie pie, just hand the cash over and we'll call it even since we got lunch 'nd dinner too. Come Wednesday, though, don't forget that y'old grand manor is now home to th'world's best part-time butlers!"

Howard looks relieved, looks at Lavi almost gratefully, and hands over an envelope that's too light for Kanda to be particularly happy about.

They bow to each other, because Kanda had done so automatically (he blames his Japanese heritage, even if he can't remember much of the country anymore) and had enough force of personality to influence those around him, and they part ways.

Still has his hand in Lavi's pocket, though, it's warmer this way. The contents of the envelope are sufficient to see them through a week's groceries with some creative shopping.

The tiny ornate silver spoons in Lavi's pocket, if push comes to shove will help 'em cover rent. Turns out they hadn't needed to worry about modifying their moral code after all! Mid-dinner Walker had casually stated that they were penniless because his mother's actual husband wants nothing to do with him, and his father is a bastard with a drinking and gambling habit, and the manor's currently running on fumes (provided by Walker's slightly suspect nighttime escapades and Howard's efficiency at working as an editor for a baking magazine from home) so the pay won't be great.

In fact, the pay won't be there at all, and the little not-lord had kindly given his blessing for them to sneak out some silverware to pawn in case things get too much to bear.

Lavi frees his hand from Kanda's pocket, ignoring the grump, to instead hug Kanda around the waist. They get some strange looks, but Kanda doesn't care while Lavi revels in it. He pecks Kanda on the cheek, cold lips on cold skin, and Kanda makes a face (that says, why aren't you kissing me until everything is warmer, you dog-gone idiot).

"Just imagine, Yuu-chan," he croons. "We're thievin' butlers, yeah, and there's still the rest of the week to do odd jobs in!"

Kanda grunts, but to be honest, if this much nudity, velvet and chicken will be involved in working part-time, this maybe isn't as bad a position as he'd originally thought.

* * *

A/N: I haven't uploaded anything in ages, have I? has changed a lot, and this new sorting system looks like it's not doing a good job sorting anything. Doing a 30 day AU challenge to get back into writing c: This one was maid/butlers, so I happily made it part of the Odd Jobs-verse! It's December now, and hopefully everyone's taking care of themselves so 2014 can be welcomed properly!

And before you ask, I'm never giving up on EF. NEVER. Even if new chapters might sound very different to the ones before orz. Anyways, hope it was a fun read yeah!


End file.
